


Santa's Little Helper

by theabnormallifeofateenfangirl



Category: Arthur Christmas (2011)
Genre: Christmas, First Kiss, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Santa Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 07:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13119195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theabnormallifeofateenfangirl/pseuds/theabnormallifeofateenfangirl
Summary: Steve may be Santa, but is he brave enough to take the next step in his relationship with Peter...In which, Steve faces the truth and realises he should stop messing Peter around, as he is worth so much more than just an assistant.





	Santa's Little Helper

“You’re going to be the best Santa. Excellent. Exquisite, Sir.” Peter praised his boss, chest tingling with excitement and confusing emotions. Trailing behind Steve as he rushed to his office, his little elf legs needed to work twice as hard to keep up with the muscular man. By the time the door opened Peter was red-faced and sweaty, breathing like he had only just discovered air after a lifetime of being a merman. His plump cheeks were tinted in a way that would match perfectly to Santa’s outfit, which only intensified when he noticed Steve staring at him, in a strange yet familiar fondness. The elf felt like he might melt on the spot (even though they are in the North Pole, and Arthur has left many a door open!) Peter had to shake himself out of the daze he found himself in, lost in Steve’s glistening eyes, who seemed to return the sensation of awe, or was Peter just hoping too much and projecting his own feelings? He hesitated in his next move, from the nervous doubt he had placed in his own mind, looking around the room to find something to relieve him or the anxiousness that began to devour his very being… “Would you like an expresso, Sir?” Peter asked meekly, unable to hold eye contact with the powerful man before him. The most powerful man in the world. The next Santa.

Steve shifted uncomfortably, turning his body away from Peter whilst trying to casually clear his throat, before moving his head minutely to indicate that yes, he did want an expresso. Peter set to the task straight away, not wanting the great man before him to lack in the caffeine he clearly needed, if the bags under his eyes were anything to go by. It was obvious what was preventing his sleep, the impending task of Santa was only three days away, and Steve didn’t believe that he could do it, despite year after year being in control of the event, whilst his father acted as a figurehead of some sort. Of course, Peter knew that Steve was capable of anything. He wanted to hug Steve so tight that their hearts beat as one, till on all levels but physical they are entirely united. To wipe away the bags under his beautiful eyes with compliments and love. Before he could stop himself, Peter was trapped in a trance once more, imagining a future that would never come to pass, instead showering all his affections in the coffee his desired would drink. 

Soaring across the room to give Steve his hot comfort that was sought through an expresso, Peter stumbled due to a pile of manuals lying on the floor, which he tried his utmost to avoid. Unfortunately, this only meant that he would be spinning around the room in a bizarre fashion, whilst trying to find his balance, without spilling a drop of coffee. Peter always did a perfect job, Always, and he wasn’t going to stop now. At least he wouldn’t if gravity wasn’t getting in the way. After a sequence of squeaks and screams, and utter disorientation, Peter became increasingly aware that he was between two large arms and a rock-hard chest, and no longer holding a cup. Although he panicked and wanted to fix his mistake, Peter could not move from the body adjoined with his own, it felt like home. A togetherness that overwhelmed all his other senses and cognitive processes. That was until he felt a heat rise in his abdomen, and the shock of reality hit him, to which he responded by raising his head, eyes meeting Steve’s, both faces red, and breath erratic. Yet neither moved. Peter enjoyed the warmth and comfort, whilst Steven’s mind flurried with different reasons as to why this position felt so natural, assistant wrapped between his arms and pressed against his chest, as his heart palpitations reverberated through both their bodies.

It was only when Steve noticed the scolding of his feet that he asked, “do you want me to put you down?” bashfully, to an equally embarrassed Peter. Once Peter’s two dainty feet had reached the floor, he was able to evaluate the situation at hand: Steve held him in his arms, Steve’s feet were being attacked by the rogue expresso that gave into the temptation of gravity, and Peter himself was covered in the sticky brown liquid. His favourite Christmas jumper ruined! However, Peter knew that his needs were of much less significance than Steve’s, and that he must act quickly to make him feel as good as possible, as quick as possible. Running over to find paper towels, Peter’s mind raced just as fast, knowing the position he was in just moments earlier. Knowing he would do anything to fall into his place next to Steve. If only Steve felt the same, but why would Santa ever reciprocate his feeling, he’s only an elf after all. Peter’s face visibly shifted at the thought of eternal distance from the one he loved, so close yet never within reach, the cruellest feat of all. “W-what’s wrong?” Steve asked, as if unsure as to whether it was his place, although he wanted it to be. Steve knew deep down that he had always felt a spark with Peter, yet afraid to voice his feelings, instead opting an easier approach or professional closeness, appointing Peter as his assistant. Originally, it had all been part of an elaborate scheme to woo him, alas it never came to pass due to the internal struggle Steven had with the external expression of his bisexuality. He feared that his father would never understand, the slow minded man he is, definitely not unaccepting, just he never quite thinks about what he says or does, or even consider that his own son is in anyway different to himself. Even reassurance from his mother did not calm the anxiety he had felt since early teenage years, the only thing that made him feel at peace was time he spent with Peter. 

Steven, unlike Peter, was able to see the mutual attraction between them, and tested the limits of this through flirting and compliments, but to no avail as Peter was unable to notice that his feelings were reciprocated. Sure, on occasion they had held hands, or hugged in celebration, longer than necessary, but Peter didn’t truly understand the extent to which Steve felt, how deep his bounds of love went. It was at this point that Steve realised he needed to do something drastic before it was too late. So, he gently grabbed Peter’s shoulders, to hold him place and forcing eye contact, which Peter kept trying to evade. With his large hands he tilted Peter’s perfectly chiselled chin upward, staring at the pink lips that stood in contrast to shining white skin. He leaned in, eyes closing to explore the dark expanse of his mind, only to explode with colour and movement when his own mouth caught Peter’s. At first Peter stood still, shock ran through his electrified body, unable to ascertain who initiated the kiss, he was hoping it was Steve. It must have been… Peter could feel the surprisingly soft lips pressed against his own, moving in their own rhythm that he could resist, a new melody that was so entrancing. The rest of the world left behind.

“I love you,” Steve moaned lightly against his lover’s lips.

“I love you too, Steve,” Peter responded breathlessly, finally dropping the formality, and opening his heart for its greatest journey yet.

**Author's Note:**

> A Christmas gift that I hope you will feast upon!  
> Thank you for reading and merry Christmas/happy holidays!!! c:


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